


if this is my last breath

by marvelstans



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:33:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelstans/pseuds/marvelstans
Summary: "just hang on a little longer, buck. please.""buck?""bucky?"





	1. come back, i still need you

**Author's Note:**

> aaaahhhh trying something new i hope y'all like it! bit sad
> 
> updated 25th november 2018- updates coming soon!

it was one of those nights. a night for staring at the ceiling and talking about the important stuff. a night that was made merely for passing the hours until he had to let bucky go. but, truth was, steve wasn't ready. wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready. 

"buck?"

a pause. a rattle of lungs drawing pained breaths. 

 

"yeah, stevie?"

 

"do you ever, y'know, regret things? not doing things earlier, or better?"

 

bucky smiled in the dark. he sighed, the sound wheezing harshly in the silent (save for the monitors beeping) room.

 

"stevie, i'll tell you something now, and I want you to remember it for as long as you can. I have absolutely no regrets. not one. because regretting means that I would want to change things that have happened, and god, steve, my life (or what I remember of it) has been perfect. you have been perfect. even we were young, and stupid in Brooklyn, I wouldn't change a thing. 

 

if this is my last breath, right here, right now, I could leave happy. because of you, my beautiful steve. it's all because of you."

bucky broke off, interrupted by a lingering cough that had been plaguing him for months. although of course, it had turned out to be much more than a cough. he reached for his water on the nightstand. his hand shook. it was hard to belive it was the same man who had killed a Nazi with a single shot from half a mile away. 

steve couldn't watch. his heart was breaking with every half smile, drowned out by coughing fits. all he could do was gather bucky's hand in his and wait. it won't be long now. 

"I love you more than anything, bucky. remember that."

"I love you too, my steve. more than I've ever told you."

bucky's eyes slid shut, the ghost of a smile hung on his lips. 

"my stevie. i love you."

bucky's chest heaved with the effort of breathing. and even though steve's heart was breaking into a million peices, he whispered the words bucky needed to hear.

"it's ok, buck. let go. i love you."

he kept whispering that into the darkness, long after bucky's breathing had slowed and stopped. he was past tears. he was just empty, filled with longing for someone who wasn't coming back, no matter how hard steve wished he would. 

god, he would give anything for bucky to open his eyes one last time and call him a punk, anything other than this horrible stillness.

when the sun started filtering in through the thin hospital curtains, steve planted a kiss to bucky's temple. 

"goodbye, buck."


	2. slowly falling apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve comes home. but home isn’t home without bucky

steve fumbled in his pocket for his keys. they had an annoying habit of disappearing when he wanted them. 

“buck, can i borrow your keys? i can’t find-“ 

there was a sharp intake of breath. a long exhale. a memory. a pang of regret and sorrow. 

“mine.”

his hand patted its way to his back pocket and there were the keys. steve barely noticed opening the door, stepping inside to the empty hallway. 

his eyes scanned the floor. he picked up on bucky’s boots, lying haphazardly across the floor. ordinarily, if bucky had been there, he would have chatisised him, but he wasn’t. he wasn’t there. and steve wasn’t sure he could handle that. 

a lifetime of moans and grumbles. of complaints, when all steve wanted to to was take bucky in his arms and tell him he could leave his boots wherever he wanted, he could leave the washing up in the sink for days on end, could leave his dirty laundry strewn across the floor. 

fuck, if steve could go back, he would do it all differently. because bucky deserves the world. DESERVED the world. that sounds horrible inside steve’s head. he didn’t think it had sunk in yet. 

bucky was gone. he wasn’t coming back. ever. 

and steve supposed he’d have to get used to that. 

with a jolt, steve realised that he was just aimlessly standing in the hall, lost in his own mind. his memories of bucky and their life together. 

he walked through to the living room, looked around for the TV remote. it wasn’t on the table or the sofa arm. fuck it. steve didn’t think he could concentrate anyway. he sat down heavily on the couch. 

“oh god, buck. what am i going to do without you?”

his head rested in his hands and a tear fought to escape his eyes. he started to fight it. but what the hell’s the use? no one’s going to see him. 

and steve lets himself break. he falls apart and bucky isn’t there to hold him together. he sobs and sobs until his head hurts and his sleeves are wet with silent tears. he cries until he’s empty, until all that’s left is bitterness and a sick feeling in his stomach. until his sobs fade away and the only sounds in the house are his quiet snuffles, every now and then. 

a deep breath. a sigh. the creak of the couch as he lifts his weight off of it. he starts toward the bedroom, his footsteps echoing in the horrible, deathly silence of the house. he pauses in the door. he looks around. traces of bucky are everywhere. on the floor, in the way the bedsheets are rumpled because he NEVER made them. in the slightly ajar door to the bathroom. a rush of memories come flooding to steve, so strong he stumbles back from the door a little. he can’t face the bedroom. not today. maybe one day, but not today. 

not today.


	3. it's too soon, too soon to say goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve tells the others. or, tries to.

steve's phone was buzzing. he groaned, reaching for it with his eyes still closed and knocking it off the edge of the bed. it buzzed on the floor, the sound grating against steve's ears until he growled with annoyance and grabbed it, aggressively sliding his finger across the screen. he pressed it to his ear as he sleepily spoke. 

"hello?"

"steve?"

his eyes shot wide open. he sat bolt upright in bed, throwing the covers off.

"nat?"

she sounded vaguely amused on the other end as she answered. 

"yeah. I wake you?"

steve rubbed a hand over his face, scrunching his nose. he rolled his eyes. 

"well, obviously. it's-" he paused, glancing at his clock. "shit, it's 11.i was going to make a snarky remark about how early it was, but I don't think that'll work out now."

nat didn't laugh. "steve, what's going on? we haven't seen you in months, you're sleeping in, and i've been calling bucky's phone non-stop to see if he was ok. ste-"

her voice faded out. as soon as she had said 'bucky' his grip on the phone loosened and a sense of dread settled in his bones. it had been one of bucky's wishes that steve didn't tell anyone about him being sick. "don't want them worrying, see." well, steve was going to have to tell them now, wasn't he? for the first time since bucky had died, steve felt, almost angry. how could bucky leave it to him to tell them? why couldn't he have done it himself? the phone dropped to the floor, bouncing on the carpet. Natasha's voice filtered through his brain, jerking him back to reality. 

"-ve? steve? are you there?"

scooping the phone from the floor, steve spoke. 

"can we meet?"


End file.
